


Trapped (Hiatus)

by weebits



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Claustrophobia, Hurt No Comfort, Manipulation, Other, and enjoy, good luck, i wrote it at 2 am, this is a painful fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28031505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weebits/pseuds/weebits
Summary: Dream finds the secret room beneath Logstedshire that Tommy made recently, and needless to say, he's not exactly happy about it.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 306





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all, I'm currently not working on any content for this fic because I'm working on writing other things, and I don't have the motivation to finish this right now. Sorry!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning for:
> 
> Manipulation, claustrophobia, mentions of blood/minor injury, and an implied panic attack. Please be careful when reading if these are upsetting for you!

Dream sighed.

Tommy had gone off to gather materials, and Dream hung around Logstedshire whilst the boy had collected resources for himself. He curiously rummaged through the barrels, taking a peek at Tommy’s personal belongings. Of course, it was mostly junk, random items that Dream had allowed him to keep. He wasn’t sure why he was looking anyway, the _real_ valuable items were stowed away in Tommy’s ender chest; something he could not access.

With a hum, he turned around and walked inside the small mobile home, shutting the door behind him. The place was nice, a simple creation of Wilbur’s to help cheer up the boy. It never worked. 

He took a step forward, and a sudden noise rang out-

_Creak._

“What in the hell?” Dream lifted his foot, gazing down at the floorboards. Why did they creak? They hadn’t done that before.

He put his weight down on it once again, met with yet another loud creak. He knelt down on one knee, bemused to what could be making the floorboards stir. Drawing his sword, he stuck the blade in a rather loose looking board, prying it open with ease.

But, instead of grass, Dream found… a room.

A hidden room.

What in the Hell was Tommy hiding? he wondered, a frown deepening in his face beneath the mask. He grunted, prying up more of the floor beneath him with some effort, and stood, finding himself above some sort of cobblestone room, with two chests and a crafting table tucked neatly inside.

Dream lowered himself inside via a makeshift ladder into the den. He stared at the signs decorating the chests, some odd inspirational quotes hastily scribbled on them.

“Oh Tommy… what did you do now?” Dream spoke to himself, his tone holding a hint of malice and cruel amusement. He opened the chests, rummaging through them to see what he had stored:

Diamonds, weapons, tools, ender pearls, emeralds… everything Tommy would need to regain his power over Dream. Everything he needed to fight back.

He could only laugh as he took out his flint and steel, burning the belongings to a crisp.

What an idiot, Tommy was.

_-_

“Dream, I’m back!” Tommy called as he trudged up the stairs he had painstakingly carved, emerging from his mine after a long day.

“Oh, Tommy… it’s good to see you,” Dream was already there, leaning against an upright log, expecting him. His expression was hard to discern, his body language near impossible to decipher; although, Tommy could tell one thing.

He had done something very, very wrong.

“Dream-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Tommy,” He stood from the log, walking over to the boy and towering over him. “After everything _nice_ I’ve done for you, visiting you, helping you, ensuring my _trust_ in you, and being your friend, why did I find a hidden room underneath Logstedshire?”

“I… I don’t know…” Tommy trailed off, taking a step back as he hung his head in shame. He was so sure Dream wouldn’t find it, so sure that his confidence was building back up again and yet… here he was. Back at square one, bending to Dream’s words like grass in the wind.

“No, Tommy, I think you _do_ know. I want you to say it.” 

“I was just gathering some nice things for myself, Dream,” He stumbled over his words hastily, his voice breaking as he struggled to explain himself. But how could he explain this? “Please, please forgive me. I’ll never do it again, I broke your trust and I- I’m sorry.”

Dream lifted his head, his haunting mask refusing to offer any solace in Tommy that he might be considering forgiveness. “Come with me, Tommy.”

At that, Dream turned on his heel and began to walk, Tommy quickly following close behind, like some lost puppy. 

After a few minutes of walking, Dream stopped in front of some kind of hole, roughly 7 feet deep and just barely wide enough to fit inside, the sides lined with obsidian.

“Give me your items, Tommy. Throw them in the hole.”

Tommy quickly complied, not wanting to piss the man off further than he already assumed he was. He tossed his sword and armor in, expecting that to be the end of it.

“No no, Tommy…” He chuckled, and the sound sent shivers up Tommy’s spine. “ _All_ of your items. The tools, the food, the resources - everything.”

“Oh… okay,” Tommy nodded, anxiety building up in his stomach as he dropped everything he owned into the pit. He watched Dream carry on the usual, placing down explosives and lighting them, and just like that his items were all gone. 

Tommy had nothing.

“Now,” Dream began, turning to face the teen, who did nothing to hide the fear in his expression. “Your turn.”

“Wait, wh-” Tommy was cut short as Dream pushed him into the hole, but instead of placing explosives above him like he had expected, he placed more obsidian above his head, shrouding him in the dark, confined space.

“WAIT, DREAM-” He screamed, clawing above him at the black rock, so shiny and sharp it appeared like glass, scraping and cutting his fingers as he frantically frailed.

Dream stood over the now covered hole, listening to the boy’s muffled cries for help. Tommy hated confined spaces - and that played perfectly into Dream’s favor.

“Relax, I won’t leave you to _die_ in there,” He said nonchalantly, almost amused in response to Tommy’s screaming, raising his voice to ensure he was loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just until you learn your lesson. I’ve been rather nice to you, but you’ve broken my trust, I’m sure you’ll understand. I’ll be back.” And just like that, he turned and left.

_-_

Tommy was alone. In the dark. In a small space. He could feel his throat tighten up as waves of panic washed over him, leaving him hardly able to breathe. Anguished cries rang out from within his obsidian prison, barely heard from the sounds of the forest around him. Was he to die here? Was this it? Did Dream really mean it when he said he’d come back? What if Tommy starved before he could let him out? So many questions ran through Tommy’s head. 

“PLEASE! HELP ME! GET ME OUT! NO NO _NO_.”

He continued to bang and scream, the scrapes on his knuckles worsening with each strike against the sharp rocks. At this point, blood had trickled down his arms, dripping onto his shirt and torn up shorts. He slumped down, just barely having enough room to sit and hug his knees, rocking back and forth gently as he choked on his sobs. 

“ _Please come back…_ ” He croaked, his voice raspy and broken, having given out moments ago from his wild shrieking. He put his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to think of something, anything else to distract him from this tight space.

Hours had passed. A few more sessions of screaming and banging had ensued, and yet… nothing. Tommy was so sure he was going to die, alone, forgotten and exiled by his loved ones. In the end, not even Dream would care about him.

But soon, a crack of light peaked through. Tommy’s head shot up, and he scrambled to stand and reach towards his freedom. 

The obsidian was slowly uncovered, and there stood Dream.

He lifted the boy from the hole, who immediately clung to him desperately, as if his life depended on it.

“Shh… it’s okay, Tommy. I’m here. You’re safe now, I’m right here,” He cooed, assuring the teen as he held him gently.

It was as if Tommy had forgotten that Dream was the very one who trapped him, tormented him, and truly broke him.

“I-I’m sorry, Dream…” Tommy said through his sobs, refusing to let go of the man’s jacket.

“I know you are, and I forgive you. I actually have something for you, do you want it?” His voice was soft and sweet, manipulating the poor boy with ease. 

“Yes, please,” He begged, looking up from Dream’s jacket, still clinging in desperation.

Dream led him away from that wretched hole, bringing him up the hill and sitting him down in his tent beside the sea. He made his way around to the jukebox, pulling his bag over his shoulder and reaching inside to pull out the gift he had gotten for Tommy.

A disk. 

“For me…?” Tommy’s voice was quiet as he reached out to the disk, a small shine in his eyes.

Dream nodded, gently placing the disk inside the jukebox. Out came a lovely tune, _Chirp - C418_. Tommy scooted close to the jukebox, staring in awe as the music played. It was serene, and seemed to calm the teen down almost instantly. One of his last comforts.

“Come here, Tommy,” Dream suddenly spoke, reaching in his bag and pulling out what seemed to be bandages, and a glass potion bottle filled with a bright red liquid, emitting a soft glow - a healing potion.

Tommy obliged, approaching him and settling back down in the grass in front of him, staring at him nervously.

“Give me your hands.”

Once again, Tommy quickly complied, holding his hands up to him. They were incredibly bruised, blood smeared all over them with deep cuts and scrapes littering his knuckles, most of which had begun to lightly scab over. Dream took the potion, pouring the liquid over his hands, causing Tommy to wince, the cuts burning before the pain began to subside and heal. He took a cloth, wiping it over the boy’s knuckles and finally wrapping them in fresh bandages.

“There, all better now, yeah?”

“Yeah… thank you, Dream.”

He hummed in response, leaning back and sitting down on a log and watching the boy intently. Everything was playing in Dream’s favor, Tommy even saw him as a savior for rescuing him from the very pit he trapped him in and healing his bloodied knuckles, indirectly caused by Dream.

Everything was going according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed :) I'm not sure if I want to make this a oneshot, or make it into an actual narrative branching off of canon. This is shortly after the events of Tommy's stream on Thursday, where he made a secret room under the mobile home-thing and planned to fight back against Dream.  
> Also, I know Tommy already has the C418 disk, I just couldn't be bothered to go back and find what disks he does and doesn't have. I wrote this at 2 am so bear with me :P


	2. Update

Hey y'all! Just a little update since I noticed this really hit it off :)  
I think I'm going to be continuing this and making it a full story, because I've lots of ideas and you all seem to really like it :D  
Thanks again for reading this !! <3

Also, I'm not very knowledgeable on how ao3 works, so I'm sorry if some things seem weird with like, end notes and all that :P


	3. To you, Ranboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy writes a letter.

As the sun set on the fields of Logstedshire, its population of one remained awake; another sleepless night. Tommy leaned into his small desk within the tent, a lantern placed beside him emitting a soft glow, flooding the entire tent in a gentle orange hue. He held a feather in hand, dipped in ink, staring with a frustrated expression at the opened book on the desk.

It was the book he swapped back and forth with Ranboo, however he found himself unable to think of anything to write. His hands were still bandaged and bruised from his incessant beating of those horrid obsidian walls, although the healing potion proved to help immensely with his ailments. 

He sighed, furrowing his brow as he stared at the empty pages. Why was this suddenly so hard? Did he really have nothing to say, or was he holding back?

Tommy shook his head and began to write.

_ Hey, Ranboo! It’s me, Big T. But you already know that. _

~~_ I’ve been doing horrible. _ ~~ _ I’ve been doing okay. It’s been rough these past few days. My eyes look dull when I see my reflection. Is that normal? _ ~~_ I don’t know how much longer I have left. _ ~~

_ Hahahah so anyway. I’ve a funny story for you, Ranboo.  _ ~~_ Dream pushed me into a hole _ ~~ _ I fell into a hole yesterday. It fucked my hands up good. Dream saved me, actually, I think we’re starting to be real good friends. Kinda like me and Tubbo were, except he burns my shit. That’s fine though, I guess. I don’t really care anymore.  _

_ Anyway. _

_ That’s all. _

_ Yours truly, Big T _

Tommy stared at the page, at the words scribbled beyond recognition. He wasn’t being honest with Ranboo, but he couldn’t find it in him to care; he didn’t want him to worry for Tommy regardless. 

He shut the book softly, storing it away in the chest beneath his bed before clambering in for the night, getting comfortable under the makeshift blanket. 

Tomorrow would be a new day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a short one, sorry about that! This week has been very busy for me, but I'm on break starting Friday so I'll have a proper chapter up soon hopefully :)  
> Thank you all for reading! <3


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